The
following story is for adults and contains descriptions of sexual
contact between adolescent males. If you are a minor, then it is
illegal for you to read this story. If you find the subject
objectionable, then read no further. All the characters, events and
settings are the product of my over-active imagination. I hope you
like it. moore_eliot@yahoo.ca

For
Your Eyes only

by
Eliot Moore

Eight
(December 2006 and February 2007)

Pino
did not come over on Sunday. I suppose his was grounded in some minor
way for wandering down town without permission. I thought about that
as I spent the time relocating books. Pino was thirteen and change. I
had been travelling down to Wallace Books since I was nine I’m
sure; visiting dad, playing with the computers and helping in the
store. The old building was an extension of my home and the closure
of a business on the street was like an old friend moving away.
Wallace Books was eight blocks from my home and I knew the path well.
Pino’s folks didn’t see it that way.

My
brothers descended on the house midweek and because they had to be
back in Fort McMurray for Christmas we celebrated early. Paul had a
brand new GMC Sierra. I watched from the porch as Peter sat behind
the wheel listening to Paul rave about his new toy. The truck was
sweet and I could imagine the hamster turning the wheel in Peter’s
head. He was a journeyman carpenter. There was work for him in the
Tar Sands. I knew why he didn’t follow his younger brothers.
The reasons were Emma standing beside me and dad leaning on the
truck. Peter would fix the house and renovate the store. Emma had her
own way of keeping Peter preoccupied in St. George. Jasmine connected
again. Her tour was ending soon and everyone was excited about her
coming home. I made an effort to talk with her. Our conversation was
brief and stumbled along. She asked me if I had received her gift, I
hadn’t but I thanked her anyway. I had this overwhelming
impulse to ask her how Wasim was. I giggled at the thought and she
asked me what I had found so funny. I couldn’t say. Somehow the
laughter helped and we talked more warmly after that. I opened her
present later. It was a Lungee, an Afghani man’s traditional
turban. Emma helped me figure out how to roll it around my head. I
studied the affect in a mirror and imagined wearing it with Pino;
just it. I needed to learn how to wrap it more tightly. It slipped
off my head as I was masturbating into the sink with that on my mind.

We
did the drama in January. Definitely the worst time to stage it, but
I was not the only replacement in the cast. By closing night I’m
sure our director was anxious to see the back of us all. I didn’t
much like the play. It was old fashioned and the plot was silly. I
liked acting and it was okay that Justin and Nate didn’t come.
Mom had to work but managed to catch the technical rehearsal. Emma
made Peter and dad come closing night. Pino came to watch both
nights. He came back stage the first night and quietly told me I
could do better. I noticed him in the front row and I think he threw
me off. The second night Jessica told me Glyn and I were on fire
together. I was disappointed Pino had missed it. I told him so when
he came over one afternoon. He smiled and told me I had been
wonderful. He had been there it seemed; only he did not want to
fluster me. We were beginning to distract each other at that point.

The
new semester started and Glyn and I shifted classes. I was glad to
find him in my new social studies class. We sat together as before
and at the first mention of a project Glyn grinned at me. Nate was in
that class too. He and I were not that tight, so I was surprised that
my friendship with Glyn put his nose slightly out of joint. I think
Justin liked Glyn. Frankly, at by that point it would have stupefied
me to meet anybody who did not naturally gravitate to Glyn’s
charms. The ninth grade social studies course was an incomprehensible
study of culture that I had to drag myself to at 8:45 am. Glyn kept
me awake with his enthusiasm.

The
first day of class stands out in my mind. Glyn and Anthony Hawkins
traded quips about the Conservative Thatcher government’s
policy on oil royalties. Anthony beamed at Glyn when our teacher
prompted a change in topic. He recognized a fellow traveller in Glyn.
He may also have experienced a glimmer of hope that a newcomer such
as Glyn would not reject him out of hand. “Ant” Hawkins
was compact. While his Sunnyside neighbours were slamming into us in
the park Ant could be found gossiping with the girls on the park
benches. He feigned interest in shopping with them. Ant invariably
dressed in regulation male, but it came across as something of a
costume. Everything was a bit too clean and while the rest of us
struggled to keep our clothes fitted to our eccentrically shaped
adolescent bodies, Ant’s wardrobe fit a bit too well. The girls
treated him as something of a mascot. I suppose I dismissed Anthony
like the rest. His little comet circled Jessica Prefontaine and
Jessica Dilsner’s binary. When I first attached myself to
Jessica with my rather erratic orbit, Anthony timidly tried to
approach me. I responded to his hesitant greeting with a blank stare
and something inarticulate. I imagine that would have been enough to
discourage Anthony, but I was also flanked by the indifferent stares
of my friends.

Nate
was brooding in the seat behind me. He tried to smother Anthony’s
hopeful spark. “The fairy is boning for you Fleming.” The
boy wilted and buried his head in his binder. The comment had been
loud enough to reach Anthony where he had been twisted in his seat.
So was Glyn’s reply.

Glyn
turned on Nate with an unexpected fury. “Fuck off you dick.”
Glyn’s vehemence surprised me and I stared at him with
interest. He glanced at me once and then slumped into his seat with
an air of defeat.

“Fuck
you too Fleming,” Nate muttered back. I told Nate to drop it
and he poked me in the shoulder with his pencil. That earned me a
glance from Glyn before he withdrew some place I couldn’t
follow. As the class went on I watched Anthony Hawkins slowly shake
the moment off. The lesson drifted by me, but Anthony sat raptly
attentive. He offered an eager opinion, and when Glyn again disagreed
with him he countered brightly. He was a resilient kid. He never
turned to look at Glyn again that period.

Over
the next week I watched Anthony cautiously shift closer to where Glyn
and I sat along the windows. Even though there was no seating plan,
people are creatures of habit. By the third day most people have
staked their territory. Anthony bravely turfed one person after
another. Their verbal fencing continued daily. Finally he nerved
himself to sit in the seat in front of Glyn. I think he would have
liked to try for the seat behind Glyn, but that seat was hotly
contested by a number of the girls. Gavin Okanee’s heavy bulk
was usually established in the seat before Glyn. Anthony was planted
in the seat apparently absorbed in the textbook when Glyn and I
arrived. Glyn was turned back toward the girl behind him when Gavin
loomed over Anthony. “Get the fuck out of my desk.”
Anthony quailed under Gavin Okanee’s glare. I watched to see
what Anthony would do. Gavin nudged the small boy and Anthony sat
frozen to the chair.

“Hey
Gavin,” he shifted his attention to me, “It’s
Tony’s desk okay?”

Gavin
mulled that over for a moment then rolled his eyes at me, “Whatever
Simon.” He shifted over and sat in front of me. I punched his
shoulder to show my appreciation then I sat back tapping my pencil
against the edge of my desk. I thought about Anthony as he fussed
about with his supplies.

Glyn
was staring at me with a smile on his face. I stopped tapping,
“What?” He just shook his head and smiled at his books. I
shrugged my shoulders and went back to tapping until the teacher
walked down the row and told me to stop.

Later
Glyn poked Anthony on the shoulder. Anthony rotated quickly and when
Glyn asked to borrow a pencil Anthony almost fell apart finding a
fresh pencil in his book bag. He froze with it in his hand and Glyn
had to pull it gently from his fingers. Anthony seemed determined to
avoid looking at Glyn unless Glyn tapped his shoulder. At the end of
that period Glyn was able to draw a whispered farewell from the
bashful boy.

“Thanks,”
Glyn remarked as we watched Anthony make his way down the hallway. He
walked with a dancer’s grace, shifting quickly around larger
boys when he could, quickly recovering his balance when he collided
with some adolescent mountain. I turned to Glyn confused by his
gratitude. He nudged me and we started walking toward our second
period classes. I waved at Justin when he called out from where he
stood with a group of the guys from our neighbourhood and answered
one companion’s question before moving on. Glyn continued,
“What you did for Tony; you have weight around here, you know?”

I
had to laugh at that ridiculousness. “What school are you going
to?”

“Same
one you are going to Si. Guys like Tony need guys like you to stand
up for them. Can you imagine being him, feeling so alone in his skin,
being different?”

“Different?”

“Gay,”

“Oh,”
I thought about Anthony. “He’s different Glyn, but I
don’t think he’s gay.” I could see that pretty
clearly. Anthony probably hung around the girls desperately wishing
they would see past the shortness, slender frame and too neat clothes
to the horny man-child within. Anthony probably burned with rage that
people thought he was gay. It was hard being different, I knew. You
could understand his attraction to Glyn well enough without imagining
he was gay. Glyn was a prince.

“Would
it matter to you if he was?”

“Why
should it?” I responded guardedly. Not for the first time, I
wondered what Glyn would think of my game with Pino.

Anthony
was in my computer lab that afternoon. They only squeezed one in each
week but it was a nice way to end the day. He was sitting primly as
close to the teacher’s station as he could manage. On an
impulse I shifted to the station next to him. “Hey Tony,”
I tossed off before running through the log in. The unexpected
greeting earned me a quick look. I reflected that the boy needed to
learn to slouch and hang out with the guys. He sat like a girl. I
failed to log in the first time. I ran through it a second time and
hit return before swinging around to acknowledge a friendly jab. We
run through a typing tutor at the beginning of class so things are
laid back in the lab. I think our teacher was checking her email.

I
still wasn’t into the system. I re-entered my username a second
time being careful to avoid troublesome extra spaces. When my login
failed a third time I put my hands behind my head to think. “What’s
wrong?” Anthony’s voice was a soft whisper.

“Shut
up,” I murmured abstractly. I scratched my head in frustration
before attempting the six letter password a fourth time. When it
failed a fourth time I was stumped. Everyone else was busy and our
teacher had started circulating around the room. Anthony had returned
to his keyboard. I noticed his cheeks were flushed and he was biting
his lower lip. “Sorry Tony, I didn’t mean it to sound
that way. I do use a simple password and I haven’t changed it
since October.”

Anthony
noticed the teacher drifting ominously closer and hid his email
before summoning the courage for another comment. “Mrs. Burke
will reset your password for you.” He virtuously began rattling
away at the keyboard lesson the program presented to him.

“Well
sure, but how did my password get changed in the first place?”

“Did
you share it with someone? Is it something simple someone could
guess?”

“No
I never... oh fuck me senseless,” I trailed off in a whisper. I
bit my lip and wiped the palms of my hands on my pants. My fingers
paused over the keys a moment and I tried pino.
That failed and I realized the name was too short. Pino004
worked
and I was logged onto the network, “Yes!” I crowed.
Anthony’s eyes slid toward me and then returned to his screen.
I followed Anthony’s example and opened the typing tutor and
then my student email. I scanned the list of messages for Pino’s
latest note. When it popped open I found a red framed Bond poster
with a tuxedoed Roger Moore, gun in hand staring intently at me, For
Your Eyes Only was
printed across the bottom in white letters. I rattled a quick reply,
Wasim
is my friend, be at my house, Friday at 7:00,
and then sent it.

Pino
had guessed my password. I felt lightheaded at the thought. I changed
my password back to James,
savouring
the name as I typed it. My face began to burn. I wondered what Pino
thought of my choice. It was impossible to concentrate on my other
messages. Mrs. Burke wandered past, praised Anthony’s effort
and warned me to get back to typing. I dutifully returned to the
program, my thoughts on Pino and my plans for our next game. Glyn’s
words came back to me: you
have weight around here.
It never seemed that way to me. I’d lived in the neighbourhood
all my life, just as my mom and dad had. Our family seemed to know
everyone and when you’ve played shinny with a guy like Gavin
Okanee since third grade it was easy to get him to step off. Alone
in your own skin,
I knew that feeling too well. I always felt a bit lost and alone. I
never completely exposed myself to anyone; except maybe Pino. I
logged off and slowly typed in Pino’s username. I am not sure
why it seemed so important to me to know. His account opened with
Simon.
I laughed out loud and that caught Mrs. Burke’s attention. I
suppressed my excitement and touched the screen as if my hand might
reach up the hill and through my neighbourhood, leap across the snow
choked gully dividing us and find its way to Pino’s school
where he might now be sitting in some computer lab touching his
screen. It was a small thing between friends I suppose, using our
names for passwords. I just didn’t feel so alone in my skin
when I thought of Pino.

Pino
and I had seen a good deal of each other in the seven weeks since we
stood shivering together on the Canadian Transcontinental Railway
track. Dad started to grumble when I skipped meals to chat with Pino
online. He started meeting Glyn and me at my house after school. I
went over to Glyn and Pino’s place too. Sometimes Pino brought
his friend Robert or Kyle, the chubby boy I had seen in his kitchen.
There were games to be played and when I learned Robert and Kyle
played hockey, we played pick up down at the rink. Mostly we were
with others, but when Pino and I could, we would slip off into our
private world where Pino was the clever spy and I his fanatic
nemesis. We became students of Afghanistan politics and current
events so we could spar. Aasir’s file grew in Pino’s
study desk and I began one of my own. Jasmine filled in local colour
when she began responding to my emails.

Too
often, the game was a hurried collaboration staged in our bedrooms.
They were always fuelled by a persistent series of thefts perpetrated
on my room or person by Pino. They always ended with Pino’s
capitulation. Perhaps 004 was foiling Aasir’s latest bomb plot
at 15 Wing, St. George or Aasir was infiltrating a Canadian base in
Kandahar. It hardly mattered. After a fierce exchange of rhetoric and
a prolonged wrestling match that left us perspiring and hard, I would
subdue 004 with Wasim
is my friend.
We could not always wait to be alone. One time while Glyn and Justin
were playing Halo in my bedroom, Pino stepped into the bathroom and I
followed. I whispered in his ear, pressed him against my body with a
wandering hand while the other hosed the toilet bowl with his stream.
The gurgle of the tank was louder than Pino’s high pitched
wheezing or his soft cry when his organism reached its flood. He
wouldn’t allow me to go back to the bedroom hard. He cut me off
with a hand to my mouth before I could tell him Wasim
is gone.
My pants fell to the floor. My legs trembled, Pino’s soft
member planted wet kisses on my hip as my erection glided through his
fist. I’m not as quiet as Pino. I soaked his shirt as I pressed
my lips into his shoulder to stifle my cries, the heady freshness of
Pino strong in my nostrils. I forgot to send Wasim away that day.
Pino pointed it out a few days later as he explored my erection, his
own satiated penis rubbing against my tensed scrotum. But that was
all so hurried and furtive.

I
lived for the prolonged matches; Pino and I with time on our hands
and the privacy to use it. Wallace Books was our only refuge. Dad
became accustomed to Pino’s visits and Pino lent a hand with
the increased custom of our coffee bar. Dad told me privately that
Pino probably deserved some money for his efforts. I joked that I
would work something out with him. After dad closed up the silken
nylon cords came out. Then it was candle wax and ice, a butter knife
stiletto threatening Pino’s manhood, and whatever else my
imagination let loose. It was the anticipation of my ejaculation
soiling his virgin flesh and for Pino, the long torment of withheld
release until his flesh screamed and his strength gave out and he
confessed whatever trivial secret we had fabricated for the moment.

January
was a particularly brutal month, so we caged rides home in the
evenings. Each time we waited in the window for our parents the
memory of my lips on is penis rose between us, unresolved like the
room that lay hidden behind my bedroom bookcase. I climbed the stairs
from time to time trying to decide if the unforgiving climate of
Assiniboia was warm enough, or if Pino and I were hardy enough to go
there together. Even on the edge of fifteen, the room was pregnant
with meaning for me. Like Wallace Books it was a place of
possibility. The tattered layers of wallpaper begged to be stripped
away. The raw wound where the plaster had been flayed away exposing
the dry ribs of lath needed a healing coat. It needed the tattered
venetian blinds ripped free so the bright sunlight could guild our
bodies as we played the game. Sometimes as I lingered in the room I
had the impulse to pick up a hammer or crowbar and strip it all away;
remake the room into a warm and inviting place. A place where friends
might laze away an afternoon in privacy while the green summer leaves
rustled in the trees.

One
night, waiting for Pino’s father to pick us up in the January
cold I nudged my friend and asked him for his name to fill the
silence between us. Pino smiled at me, “Pino is good enough.”

“No
it isn’t,” I replied frowning. I was tired of the name
game. “That’s just a name Glyn gave you.”

“Well
you better think of a different one then,” he responded
lightly. He turned his bright eyes on me and I liked his smile very
much. He would be persistent in this I realized. I mulled it over
silently as we waited. I couldn’t think of a name that suited
him better.

In
the computer lab sitting next to Anthony I laughed a second time and
Anthony studied me curiously. The February weather was numbing to the
bone and unforgiving, but I didn’t care. It was time Pino found
his way up to my secret room.

Glyn
was private about his relationship with Brittany and he said little
to satisfy my curiosity. At first I assumed he was reluctant to hurt
my feelings. I realized as we became better friends that this was the
innate discretion of his nature. If anything, Pino’s
temperament was even more circumspect. I puzzled over Pino’s
friendship with Robert and Pino offered no clues. Then too I had to
wonder how much the brothers shared with each other. I found a
confidence shared with one had to be repeated to the other. I repaid
the brother’s tact in kind. The day after Anthony found his way
into our lives Glyn opened up a little.

Jessica
caught up to me on my way out for lunch. She was blowing me off for
lunch and insisted I give her regrets to my mother. They had
something of a mother-daughter relationship. Jessica stood higher in
mom’s regard than Brittany had, and she was always welcome to
join me for lunch. Jessica was a sprite compared to Jasmine;
otherwise they were similar. At any rate she was a girl my mother
could approve of. That made Glyn’s greeting words all the more
ironic. “There is something a little indecent about you two
groping each other.”

“Hey
Glyn, we’re keeping it clean here.” I gave Jessica
another parting peck on the lips. She greeted Glyn with a warm smile
and bounced away to a basketball practice.

“I
don’t care how clean you think that was. The two of you are
twins and that makes it incest,” he quipped back.

“As
if,” I protested. I turned back to watch her slim jean-clad
rear gyrate down the hallway.

“I
don’t know Si,” Justin interjected. “I mean you and
Brittany were bad enough, but Jessica is a bit beyond freaky. Are you
sure you are not a narcolept?”

“Narcissist,”
Glyn volunteered helpfully.

“Yes
that,” Justin narrowed his eyes at me. “Perhaps that
explains the full length mirror in your bedroom.”

“You
insisted I date her Justin,” I protested weakly, “and mom
put that mirror there for Jasmine, honest.” They laughed at me.

I
invited Glyn and Justin home for lunch. Justin begged off but Glyn
accepted when I told him mom was home. She fed him well. Glyn waited
until we were on our way back to the school before he returned to the
subject of Jessica. “Jessica and Brittany are in my math class.
I’m not sure Brittany likes her. I guess that must be why the
four of us never hang out together.” I refrained from making a
comment.

“It’s
just a coincidence really.” Glyn shot me a quizzical look as we
negotiated the slippery sidewalk back down the hill to school, “Their
looking like me. I bone for all sorts. Megan Ludwar, do you know
her?” Glyn shook his head, “Tenth grader?” He
shrugged his shoulders so I let it pass. Megan Ludwar was different
than Jessica. She was the kind of girl I thought I should like: a
blond Valkierie with prominent breasts and wavy blond hair, sort of a
female Glyn to Jessica’s Simon. The truth is I was more at ease
with the slender Jessica. What we had was comfortable. Was that
enough I wondered. Comfortable was not the word I would use to
describe my relationship with Pino. “Anyway, Jessica and I get
along pretty well.”

“She
seems nice. I’m glad for you.” It was said quietly.

“Well
I’m glad I have your approval,” I jogged Glyn’s
shoulder so he would understand I took his interest kindly. He bumped
me back. “And would I have Pino’s approval do you think?”

Glyn
smiled back. “That is between you and him I think.” He
walked on a few more paces before adding, “I know she has the
look Pino is after.”

“Oh?
How do you figure that?” To my knowledge Pino had not met
Jessica.

“Jessica
is hot and you know it. I like her looks too.” I shot him a
look and groaned loudly. “I didn’t mean it like that Si.
Pino and I just sort of have the same tastes you see.”

“So
who’s the girl that’s got Pino dizzy in his mind?”
I dismissed the girl I had briefly seen in his kitchen, she was the
wrong type.

“He’s
been a dizzy boy, but that’s between you and Pino too.”
After that comment Glyn abruptly switched the conversation to the
February break two weeks away.

Friday
night Dad kept me busy at the store until after six. I had to phone
Pino and tell him I would be an hour late. The weather had warmed up
slightly and that meant the attic room would be more hospitable. As I
walked the familiar blocks I closed in on an older couple walking
hand in hand. I didn’t recognize them. They might have gone to
Central or Mother Teresa. They moved in step, shoulders touching.
When the broad sidewalk narrowed on a strip a shovel width wide, the
boy gave up the path to his girlfriend and tried to negotiate the
snow banks. He gave up the effort and fell in behind her. She turned
back on him each time he poked at her back. The path widened again
and stopped to snake her arms around his back. They drew close for a
kiss. I stopped and watched them from a distance.

The
kiss seemed... passionate. I had been curious when I noticed their
need to be in constant contact with each other. I had seen that sort
of thing often enough from my brothers. I had wondered what it would
be like to feel that way. At fourteen, I thought it bold to kiss
Jessica in the school hallway, but I felt no magnetic pull toward
her. Maybe that came with love.

The
girl noticed me watching and stared at me for a moment over her
friend’s shoulder. She said something in his ear and they both
laughed before continuing on up the path. My presence did not deter
the pair from resuming their closeness. I guess nothing mattered to
them but each other. I followed in their footsteps a little farther
thinking of Jessica and then on an impulse I ploughed through
resisting drifts that hemmed me onto the well trodden path. I ran
across the rutted road, leaped a bank of snow and ran on up the hill
toward my house. My heart pumped from the exertion and exhilaration.
Pino was coming.

Mom
had left for work and dad was still at the store. The house was
empty. I checked the street once more for Pino and then ran up the
stairs to see if the space heater I had started in the third floor
room had warmed it sufficiently. I noticed Pino’s coat on my
bed. The key to the back door lay on top. Pino had found his own way
to my secret room. He had moved the concealing bookshelf back into
place. I pulled it back and bound up the stairs three treads at a
time.

Pino
was sitting in the Adirondack Chair beside the old steamer trunk and
lamp. My book was in his lap. The happy greeting I had ready died on
my lips when I saw his face. For the moment there was only the surge
of blood from my final dash and a strange light headedness when a
smile played across Pino’s lips. His smile died abruptly.

“I
got here before you. Your mom let me in before she left.” He
sat there looking uncertain. “I had to see it just in case you
changed your mind.”

“I
had some plans. I was going to bring you up blindfolded.” He
nodded at that. I gestured for him to stand up. I stepped around the
2X4 frame on the floor as he set the book aside and rose to his feet,
“A little torture on the stairs; probably some tickling.”
He swayed a little when I ran my fingers over his ribs and sides, but
he listened silently. He was only wearing a t-shirt so I pulled it up
over his head and brought it back down past his shoulders so the
fabric pinned his arms behind his back at the elbows. “Aasir
was going to beat on you. Get rid of some of his rage at the way you
killed Wasim’s family.”

“They
were hiding Taliban terrorists. They wouldn’t leave when we
came.”

“I
know,” The tragedies of war; I cupped a hand to the side of his
face and punched his cheek and jaw in a gentle slow motion. His head
gave way each time, pressing into the hand I held against his cheek.
I back handed him across the mouth in slow motion. The wetness of his
lips slid across the back of my hand. “Wasim still hates you
though.”

I
punched his bare stomach in slow motion with both hands. He let his
head fall on my shoulder close against my neck as I beat a rhythm
that seemed to match my heart. Our feet began to shuffle and we
danced in a circle; Pino’s head pressed against me and my
knuckles kissing the heat of his body. Finally I stopped and pressed
one palm against his heart. I was amazed to feel the strength of his
pulse as we continued to shuffle. He gave a short laugh and I echoed
it. Our eyes met when he lifted his head and we shared an
understanding. I had no wish to hurt him and he had no interest in
that sort of pain.

“So
once 004 had been softened up a little I planned to tie him up.”

“The
rack?” Pino pointed with his chin to the arrangement I had made
on the floor. “No, over here,” I grabbed him by the front
of his pants and led him over to the corner where the ceiling had
given way.

He
let me tie his arms together and then tossed the end of the rope over
a joist. I stood behind him so I could avoid touching his groin as I
slid his pants free. You see boys in a change room. Their many
different forms fascinated me. Pino’s full butt cheeks were
inches from my face as I pulled his pants away from his feet. I
wanted to touch the back of his legs, but Pino’s early arrival
had left me unprepared. I knew I was supposed to wait until we began
the game. “So there you are. I will leave you there a moment
while I prepare myself.”

“Not
too long Si.”

“I
have something to show you.” Having Pino in the attic room was
unsettling me. I paused at the top of the stairs for a last look at
his stripling form stretched up to the joist. His eyes mirrored the
anticipation I was feeling in my chest and groin.

I
had protested that the full length mirror was my mother’s idea.
The truth was I often stood and studied myself. It probably didn’t
help me. I would worry about my lack of muscles or worry that the
contour of the muscles I had were derisory. I kept my hair short
because my brother’s shaggy hair never looked quite right. It
troubled me that my nose was broken. People always looked at it. I
thought my eyebrows wrong. Pino was much better looking and it was
obvious why Brittany preferred Glyn. With Pino’s face and
proportions I was sure he could get anyone he liked. I worried all
this as I stripped and put on a pair of sweat pants. They hung
loosely about my waist threatening to slip free. My penis was poking
out obscenely. I tried to tame its enthusiasm with a jock strap. I
carefully wrapped the Lungee around my head and surveyed the affect.
It would have to do. No amount of eating could induce the flesh to
fill out as my brother’s bodies had at my age. There was no
time for some magic transformation. Pino was waiting.

I
was startled by the sound of bare feet pounding down the stairs. I
spun around just as Pino tumbled through the doorway naked. He came
up short when he saw me and blinked. “Si, how cool is that?
Sort of studly, where did that come from?” He fidgeted in the
doorway.

“Jasmine
sent it to me. She knows I’m interested in Afghanistan,”
I replied vaguely. “Sorry I was taking so long; it’s hard
to wrap it.”

Pino
bit his lip, “I have to go to the can.” He gave me a
self-conscious grimace. “I won’t be long.” He
dashed past me, penis waving hello as he passed me but there was not
one errant jiggle in his pale bum.

“Do
you want some help?” He slid to a stop in the doorway and
turned back.

“Not
this time Si...” Then he skipped away. I turned back to the
mirror while I waited for him. I thought about Pino’s comment.
Did I look okay in the Lungee? Pino’s bright enthusiasm, his
grace and strength drew me on, but I could hear the murmured warnings
that I was about to make a huge mistake. The mirror failed to give me
reassurance so I turned away and sat on the bed. Time passed and I
flopped back feeling foolish.

“Well
that was embarrassing.” I lifted my head to find Pino standing
at my feet. “Did I kill the game?” He looked at me with
such wide open innocence. He raised his arms unselfconsciously,
linked his fingers behind his neck and then swivelled his slim hips.

“Shit
happens,” I had to smile. I sat up and he stopped his nervous
movement. My hand wanted to touch his hip. It had its way and I
allowed it to rest briefly along his flesh. “Are we still on?”

“Yep,”
he frowned slightly, “I’m sorry I’m spoiling it for
you.”

I
just shook my head. He stood there naked before me, a willing partner
in a game more exciting than anything I had done before. “Need
a hand?”

“No,
I can handle it. Just give me a minute.” He turned and almost
skipped back to the stairs. I watched him go and suddenly I couldn’t
stand it anymore. I stripped my belt off my pants and chased after
him. I caught him half way up the stairs and grabbed him around the
waist and he went to his knees.

“Enough
of this 004,” In a few quick moves I had his arms tied behind
his back. My groin was mashed against one butt cheek. It seemed worth
chancing a comment to Pino. “This arrangement seems strangely
familiar. What does it remind me of? Ah yes, Wasim.”

“Just
as I suspected Aasir, your dark side has been revealed once more.”
He squirmed against me and my patience reached its limit, “Poor
Wasim, better you should use a soldier like me than some poor boy.”
That left a small pause between us. I ended it by tugging him back to
his feet and leading him back to the ropes dangling from the rafter.
I went to the old trunk where I had stashed a few game props and
returned with a long scarf. “A blindfold, I can take whatever
you can imagine. You can’t frighten me with a blindfold, forget
the blindfold.” I hesitated. I really wanted him blindfolded
for what I had in mind. He would let me blindfold him if I wanted,
but there was something in his eyes that made me stop. I steeled
myself and gave up on the blindfold.

I
knelt down before him. His penis was soft. As soon as I touched him
he began to stretch out toward me. I couldn’t meet Pino’s
eyes. Our game had been so light hearted up to this point and I was
afraid I might spoil it. Without warning I sucked the swelling
sausage into my mouth and used my tongue to play around its surface.
He continued to grow. He forced his way deep and I gagged
unexpectedly and pulled off of his length. I stared at his penis as
it swayed before my face. I was not ready for his reaction. Brittany
had offered oral sex to me. Each time she did I wondered what it was
like to taste a penis. Since I had briefly kissed Pino’s organ
I had strange dreams where I could contort my body and nibble on
myself. They seemed so real and when I woke I would lie a while, a
disappointment welling up in me. I took Pino’s curved shaft and
guided it back to my mouth.

I
was sensitive to his reactions. I scraped his flesh with my teeth and
he pulled away from me. My lips froze around the ridge of his crown
unwilling to release him. He slowly pushed himself back on my mouth.
Adolescent male aroma mingled with the familiar scent of my own
bathroom soap. Pino had remained silent but I could hear his deep
breathing after a time. His hips began thrusting at me. Two fingers
wrapped around the base of his shaft protected the back of my throat
as his movements became more insistent.

“I’m
going to cum Si,” Pino trembled out. “Oh God damn Si, you
better get off me.” His warm thigh against the back of my hand
shivered and tensed. He pulled back suddenly so I grabbed a solid
cheek with my free hand and pulled his hips back toward me. I shook
my head vigorously. Pino slipped a hand free and rested it on my
shoulder. He swayed a bit as he used the other hand to support his
quivering body. “No,” and then I tasted Pino and felt
Pino’s force pulse against my fingers and tired jaw. His aroma
was sharp and heavy in my nose. He lost strength in my mouth so I
reluctantly allowed him to slip free. Pino’s hand touched the
side of my face. He caressed my hair once and then his hand sought
the loop above his head.

I
turned around before I stood. I paced back to the Adirondack chair
trying to connect my actions to the game we were playing. Pino’s
flavour lingered on my tongue and in the back of my throat. “I
will break you down in many ways.” I offered tentatively, my
back to him. “Your Nintendo numbed mind will be as easy to use
as your body.”

“That
was...” there was wonder in his voice. I twisted around. Even
though it had been me on my knees, me sucking a boy’s cock, it
was Pino’s face that had turned bright red. I had been so
worried about his reaction. My own uncertainty was mirrored in his
eyes. The colour drained from my face as I imagined his thoughts. I
knew I had gone too far again. I had embarrassed him the first time
when my roughness made him ejaculate. Now he had been pushed into
this intimacy. He was searching my face earnestly for something but
it seemed to elude him.

“Too
much, are you okay?” I almost said too
gay.
The thought screamed in my head. Words stumbled from my lips as I
sought safe ground, “We talked about it. I thought you might
like to know what it was like. Lots of girls do it these days.”
The sparkle growing in his eyes died like kindled flames extinguished
by an incautious breath. “I guess it’s not such a big
deal. I mean, only a skank would do it with a stranger. There are
some girls like that. Justin knows some, but when it’s your
girl friend you’ll see how it’s really done.”

“Shut
up,” he cut me off. “I liked it Simon.” Pino
blushed again. He was giving up information and that was not part of
the game. James,
I thought and a soft smiled flickered over my lips. I exhaled with
relief. He looked so fine standing naked before me, one foot resting
on the other, so at ease with his well-knit frame. His penis was
shrivelled from the winter chill my jury rigged space heaters could
not defeat. I could so easily have crossed the room and started once
again. Pino thrilled me and I had to bite my lip to avoid blurting
out something foolish. I finally met his eyes and his eyes sparkled
assurance reassurance again. This was our very private game and we
made the rules.

“It
was very cool,” I admitted in my turn. “You felt like
005.” I wondered over to a window and toyed with the broken
blinds. I hunted for a suitable way to tell Pino my need. “No
matter, you are my prisoner. You are so much hot meat on the table to
me. I use you as I see fit.” Hot
meat slipped
out. I coughed. At times the rules of the game made things harder for
me. I tried to summon up some bravado to mask my desire. “You
are not the first Canadian soldier to fall into my hands, like the
others you will do everything I wish.”

“There
have been others?” His voice was soft and his uncertain look
drew me across the room to where he stood toying with the rope around
his wrists.

“I
didn’t mean it that way.” His arms were probably tired so
I slipped the loops free and his arms dropped. Pino watched my face
intently. “You are a special prisoner. I ...” Pino still
had an anxious look and words failed me, the game could not contain
what needed to be said, “No Pino.” He nodded, and after
that there was a silence.

”I
think you have never met someone like me.”

“True,”
I grinned, “I’m not sure I ever will.”

“I’m
too well trained. You have no power over me. I would have to be
drugged or hypnotized before you could make me suck your cock and I’m
sure you couldn’t do it.”

“And
if I could?”

“I
suppose I would be on my knees right now at a word from you.”
Pino blushed.

“I
suppose so.”

“But
what would Wasim say?”

I
smiled at that. “Wasim is my friend.” Pino licked his
lips. I was feeling weak as I anticipated what was unfolding. I took
him by a hand and led him back to the chair. I had meant to sit in
the chair, but Pino moved in front of me and dropped onto the edge of
the seat facing me. I had meant to give him instructions. Instead I
stood mutely while he tugged my sweat pants down. He paused at the
sight of the jock strap and then drew that down too until it
stretched across the middle of my thighs.

“You’re
so long.” His fingers felt along the shaft and tickled my
scrotum. I knew I wasn’t anything remarkable. It felt good
anyway to hear him say it though. I brushed my palm against his short
blond hair. Pino pressed and caressed my penis for a while. I felt
vulnerable before him. My arousal was laid bare before him. I knew my
penis jerked involuntarily in his hand and clear fluid hung like a
dew drop on its tip. I longed to feel Pino’s lips and tongue on
my flesh. Pino’s hand continued to tease me. The delay became
exquisite in its agony and I promised I would repay Pino for it. Pino
was staring at the crown, his long lashes flashing with each blink.
His lower lip trembled a moment and he pressed his lips together to
try and control it. I saw a tear trickle down his cheek.

My
hand covered Pino’s where it wrapped tightly around my shaft. I
stopped his movement. “It’s okay Pino. You don’t
have to do it if you don’t want.” I felt stupid that I
had pushed him to this. Why should he want to give me oral sex simply
because I had wanted to taste him so much? He looked at me briefly
with an expression I should have read with ease. The tears welling up
in his eyes and I was sure he condemned my desire for him. “I’m
sorry,” I whispered. He rolled his eyes with an exasperation I
did not understand and turned his back on me. He slumped cross legged
at my feet and propped his head on one arm. Pino took a ragged breath
and swiped a hand across his eyes with an angry gesture. He shook his
head slightly in irritation and stared at the ridiculous frame I had
constructed in the middle of the room. I had upset him in some way
and it left a sharp ache in my chest I did not understand. My penis
still throbbed painfully between my legs. I felt humiliated at its
blind need for his touch. The fire still burned through me and I
might have wept that Pino did not feel it too.

“Don’t
hate me please,” he commented absently. That left me
speechless. I put a hand on his shoulder expecting him to shrug it
off. When he didn’t, I dropped onto the floor behind him. My
ridged member brushed against his back momentarily. Pino could not
see me blush.

“I
don’t Pino. Believe me I don’t”

“Does
it come easily to you? I mean; shit how do I say this? You seem so
comfortable doing this, and I feel like such a kid.” I rested
on my heals, hand still on his shoulder. “I thought when I was
finally here I might feel different. Things would be clearer.”

“My
secret lair, something of a disappointment I’m sure.” It
didn’t matter to me. I could imagine what the room might be
when dad and Peter fixed it. It would never be my room, despite the
architecture of my imagination. It was something economical for mom
and dad to give to assorted strangers; part of their retirement plan.
My dreams lay down town. I had easily dismissed the third floor room
with its collapsed ceiling. It was an anonymous location without
significance to me. Significance lay in Pino between my bent knees. I
focussed briefly on the walls around me. The shabby uninviting room
suddenly symbolized my desire for Pino: coarse and ugly. I
desperately wished I could take the last half hour back.

“Brittany
probably sucks Glyn’s cock right? I could see her doing that.”
Pino shuddered unexpectedly and added in a disbelieving tone, “He
said he loves her. He bought some condoms when we were at the mall. I
suppose they are fucking. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I
put my other hand on his shoulder and massaged Pino gently. “Yes
I suppose they are.” My answer was brief. I knew we shouldn’t
talk about Glyn.

“She
did stuff with you too. Did you love her?”

“Not
really, I liked her. I realized when she dumped me that she never
really turned me on.”

“But
you did stuff with her. How is that possible?”

I
did not want to talk about Brittany with Pino. Pino felt good beneath
my fingers. I rubbed my penis along his back wanting to keep my
passion live, guilty that I was using his lithe athletic body as a
tool. He reached behind his back and squeezed my erection, “Sorry.”
His hand pulled my fingers off his shoulder and he pressed back
against me. He guided my hand to his crotch and I realized he was
still as hard as I was. “I shouldn’t have sucked your
cock.”

“Shut
up, I meant it. It was nice. It’s just I’m not ready to
try it yet.” My heart fluttered and his warm felt a little more
promising. I squeezed his shaft. “I’m sorry Si. I can’t
explain right now.”

“Is
that all 005?” I pulled his hands behind his back and nestled
them against my crotch. I wrapped my arms around him loving the
arrangement. “That’s no big deal.” I threw the word
off casually, burying my disappointment. I wanted him to do this for
me, but I couldn’t push him. Pino saw it differently than I did
and I would have to be patient. His head was so close to my face. It
was tempting to put my lips on the short hair covering his scalp.
Pino was not ready for that sort of affection from me. He seemed
uncertain about what we were doing. Letting him see how much he meant
to me would be unfair.

The
attic room was proving a disappointment. Instead of immersing
ourselves in our private war, we had spent our time talking. Our
masks kept slipping. My time with Pino was important; I didn’t
want to lose this. “Si, you are squeezing me.” I realized
I had one hand tight around Pino’s chest hugging him. The other
hand was roaming around his body. I let go of him. Pino turned around
and straddled my hips. He took my penis in hand and shot me a
question with his eyes. I nodded silently and he began masturbating
me. His erect penis stretched to his navel a few inches from my own.
I looked at it for a minute as Pino expertly massaged me, then I
closed my eyes and leaned back against the chair.

After
I exploded, I opened my eyes. Pino had a wistful smile on his lips as
he toyed with the jock strap. His hands were covered in my semen.
“See, it’s messier this way,” I scolded him. He met
my eyes. There was a plea for understanding or forgiveness in his
look. He must have felt guilty. “You’re a strong man
005.” “Some things are worth waiting for Aasir.” He
toyed with my spent penis unmindful of another glistening streak
added to his hand. “Your people have been fighting the world
and each other forever I think. Don’t you think it is time to
stop fighting, be friends with us?”

“We
Afghanis have our pride 005. Friends like you are always hanging
around with guns explaining how fucked up we are. We are happy with
who we are so let us be.”

“Are
you?” he asked.

“Am
I what?”

“Happy
with who you are.”

“Mostly,”
I was happy I could share this side of myself with Pino. The bone
necklace shifted against his throat as he eyed me critically.

“Glyn
says, fuck what other people think.”

“Glyn
says?” I thought that belligerent remark uncharacteristic of
the easy going Glyn. He seemed accepted by everyone. Glyn hardly
needed to worry about the criticisms of his peers.

“He
worries about me,” Pino replied cryptically. The conversation
must have made him uncomfortable because we returned to the war
between us. I remembered I was supposed to force the password to my
account out of him. He let me slap him around a bit as we traded
insults about each other’s cultures. His hands were free so he
turned the tables on me with a few well placed blows. After that the
foolish shadow boxing became an earnest wrestling match. Sweat
reanimated the smears of my dried semen as our muscles strained
together. We ended the match with Pino’s shoulders pressed into
the stained carpeting and our groins sliding together.

“We
always defeat you Westerners. Why do you keep coming?”

“Well
your friends bombed us pretty bad, what were we supposed to do?”

“So
the government says. Do you think most of us gave a flying fuck what
was happening in New York and Washington? Do you still want to see my
new toy 005? There is still time before anyone gets home.” The
rack I had built lay neglected in the middle of the room. Pino looked
over to it and nodded. When we had both struggled to our feet, I
symbolically tied Pino’s hands behind his back. My hands
brushed his round buttocks and he stepped in toward me until our
groins brushed. I was heady with the scent of my own fresh spill and
a light musk radiating off of Pino’s body. Pino grinned at me.
It was a moment when I might have leaned forward and stolen a kiss
from his lips. I imagined his arms wrapping around my waist pulling
me close. Pino’s hard erection pressed into my stomach and the
sensitive length of my penis nuzzled against its base like two lovers
mingling. I grinned back at my friend knowing I wanted to kiss him.

Moments
later Pino was spread-eagle six inches off the floor on an old wooden
bed frame I had found wandering the back alleys. His ankles and
wrists were tight but I added more rope at his shoulders and hips.
When I was done Pino couldn’t move. It made me slightly sad. I
touched his rampant erection lightly. I liked securing him. It was as
if the act of tying Pino up made him mine. Wrestle a boy to the
ground and pin him; feel his strength beat against your body, knowing
for that moment you possessed him. I liked possessing James Fleming.
I would have to untie him eventually and set him free. Free to find
some girlfriend who would never understand how a self assured boy
like Pino could crave moments when he was bound and helpless. Wasim
is my friend,
childish words to give us licence to explore ourselves in safety.
Savouring the hard length of Pino’s body I searched for the
simple words I could use to insure that I would always be able to
possess Pino.

“Can
I Pino?” I squeezed his erect penis wanting to taste it again;
certain that his reluctance to reciprocate meant my own explorations
were over.

“Please,”
he whispered back. My mouth fell on him.

We
were teenagers grasping at a precarious privacy on a Friday night.
Manoeuvring around our watchful parents’ schedules, we
furtively satisfied our mutual curiosity sporadically in a dingy
basement and a bare attic bedroom. Closing in on fourteen and
fifteen, time was always against us. I pushed away my disappointment
in Pino’s reticence and took heart in his continued desire for
my touch. I took what I could get. In the remaining minutes of our
time together I learned to draw him to the edge and hold him there. I
rested my inexperienced mouth from time to time and we traded quips
about Wasim, civilian casualties and Afghan views on women. His
passion ebbed and flowed like the tide until I couldn’t hold
him back. Afterward, I lay draped across his body, reluctant to break
contact with him.

My
dad’s voice drifted up the stairs signalled the end to our
game. I hastily untied Pino and he hovered at the top of the stairs
while I scouted out the situation. I answered dad and as he was
coming up the stairs I started tossing Pino’s clothes up to
him. Dad poked his head through my door, “Everything good?”

“Yes,
sure; Pino’s still hear. We were just hanging out.” I had
a sudden panic as he stood watching me. Did I have a Pino-moustache
on my upper lip? I wiped my mouth quickly. Dad ignored my naked torso
and glanced at the open doorway. “I was just showing Pino the
room upstairs.”

“We
should get started on that soon.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“Have you eaten?” I told him I hadn’t, and he
promised to put something together for me. I waited patiently for him
to leave and when he did Pino came down the stairs.

“I
turned everything off,” he leaned against the jam. I asked him
to help me pull the shelf back into place. “This is so cool
Si.”

“No
it isn’t. It’s stupid. Any normal family would hang a
door.” He stopped tugging on the shelf and turned to me. My
grumbled response troubled him.

“I’m
sorry Si.”

“For
what?” the game had been erratic, but Pino’s spirit still
lingered in my mouth and I was content. I smiled despite the mournful
cast of his features.

“I’m
sorry I couldn’t, you know.”

I
could have hugged him, but I simply gave him a quick rabbit punch to
draw a smile to his lips. “Forget it kid.”

“Sure,
the game,” we were both smart enough to know his bondage and my
desire were something more than a spy game, but our parents were not
the only obstacles we were manoeuvring around at that point, “Next
time?” I asked hopefully. He nodded with another blush.

“But
what will Wasim say?” he teased.

“He’s
busy.”

“Building
road bombs in the cave no doubt, something big to flip an armoured
car,” he added. I knew he had to leave. We dragged the moment
out with inane remarks.

“Until
the last of you have been driven from our mountains.”

Pino
finally gathered his coat. I followed him down the stairs. He paused
to greet my dad in the kitchen. Then I followed him out onto the side
walk. I stood shivering without my coat. We froze looking at each
other. I was struck by a sense that things were not finished between
us. Pino may have felt the same way. He seemed reluctant to turn
away.

“I
suppose I should be careful on the way home.”

“Yes,
my country is full of mines.” I punched him on the shoulder, it
was all I dared. He punched me back and grinned.

“See
you soon,” he finally blurted. “I’ll tell Glyn you
said hi.”

“Yes,
sure,” I shivered as he turned to walk away. At the end of the
block Pino turned around. He waved when he saw me still watching him.

“Bye
Si,” He waved once more.

“Bye
Pino,” I should have said it then, but how was I to know it
would be two months before we would be together again? I played the
short hours we had spent together over in my mind during the long
separation. I came back to the memory of his flesh and blocked out
our conversation as best I could. It became a solace to me.